


The Calling

by KennedyMeggs, SimzaFistFace



Series: Star Wars Anthology [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, BFFs, Batuu, Florida Man - Freeform, Friendship, Horror Elements, Jedi, Lightsaber, Original Characters - Freeform, Psychometry, Star Wars - Freeform, The Force, Visions, Whump, alcohol consumption, dotti is a nosy old cow, emotional distress, future whump, hello there, intense psychic visions, mentor!obi-wan kenobi, minor head injury, savi out here playin the long con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennedyMeggs/pseuds/KennedyMeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimzaFistFace/pseuds/SimzaFistFace
Summary: Orphaned in infancy and raised by some of the more unsavory characters in Black Spire, Jake Buir was content with his life working for Savi and Sons Scrap and spending his nights in Oga's cantina, drinking the day's labor away. But when special scrap gives Jake and his best friend a big surprise, destiny lays a path before them that may change everything, for better or worse. But with the First Order spreading their reach across the galaxy, loyalties must be laid and choices will have to be made.
Series: Star Wars Anthology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612735
Kudos: 2





	The Calling

**Author's Note:**

> This was a joint effort between KennedyMeggs and myself and was extremely fun. The timeline is a little blurry and it's definitely not canon compliant outside of names, places, and objects. Liberties were taken but we did our best to color in the lines, so to speak. This was hatched as a brain baby by the both of us a long time ago and we thought it was time to share.

Only one sun of Batuu had risen, shedding pale pink light over the lush forests, peeking through the cracks in the ancient ruins, and bursting through the windows of the village buildings in Black Spire. In one particular apartment, the light angled downward, magnified by the old glass in the misshapen window.

A young man, snoring loud and sleeping sideways, groaned as the light began to hurt his eyes. He slowly sat upright, wincing at the smell of Ronto meat and Jedi Mind Trick on his shirt. His eyes slowly drifted to the window, a realization clicking in his head.

_Sun’s up. I’m late. Damn it!_

The boy was out of his apartment in record time, still tugging his vest over his chest as he rushed down the stairs. He felt the immediate rush of wet heat come over him, almost comforted by the familiarity of it.

He hoped to catch one of his coworkers as his eyes scanned the marketplace, praying that he wouldn’t be the only one running late. “Come on, come on—“

The marketplace was busy, bustling with early morning activity as Black Spire’s inhabitants and visitors went about their business and routines. For anyone unacquainted with it, it seemed difficult to navigate.

Across the main hub, he spotted a tall young woman, absentmindedly perusing a fruit stand as if she had nowhere to be. She was freckled from head to toe from the triple suns, ash blonde hair an organized chaos of locks and braids piled haphazardly on top of her head. Big, almost too big, almond eyes scanned her options indecisively before she glanced up and spotted him. Isis Fennick, a fellow Gatherer.

“Jake!” she shouted, waving a long arm over her head to catch his attention.

Jake rushed over, tugging his bag closer to his chest as he jogged. “Isis, hi— _what are you doing?_ Savi said we should be in before the first sun comes up.”

Her voice was a little dreamy when she replied, passing credits over to the vendor before shoving a several strange spiked fruits into her own bag. “I know. But Ez just got these in from an Inner Rim system. They’re Savi’s favorite so I wanted to get some for breakfast. Would you like some?” She seemed entirely unconcerned as the started toward the workshop, half a pace slower than Jake.

He snorted a little, eagerly accepting one when she passed it over. “Didn’t have time to get breakfast, so—sure. If we give him these, he probably won’t mind that we’re late, right?”

He followed Isis down the path to the scrapyard, relaxing a bit as the sounds of the birds and rustling leaves replaced the chaos of the village. Jake smiled a little as they passed the threshold into the yard, tugging his bag off and reaching for his hovering crates.

“Hey, Isis! They left a pile open for us, that’s nice. Looks like a fresh one—that ship wasn’t there yesterday.” He pointed to an old, rusted, collapsing hunk of metal, a model of ship neither of them had seen before.

”That was nice of them,” she agreed, setting her things down and digging her peace offering out of her bag. “If you want to get started, I’ll be right back. I’m going to take these to Savi.”

Jake began to softly sing to himself in Huttese, scrambling up the steep hill of metal pieces—eager to get a better look at the ship. He broke off a piece of brittle metal, tossing it into the box labeled _’Normal Scrap.’_

He snorted, his gaze hesitating on the other box, labeled _’Special’._ In fifteen years, Jake had never found anything worth putting in that box. What did Savi even mean by _‘special’_ scrap? It was such a vague idea, Jake usually ignored the box entirely. “Hm. Nothing special in this place, I guess.”

He plunged his arm into a gap, into what he guessed was a storage unit at one point. He felt his fingers wrap around something, rusted and cold and metallic. He cried out, blinded by a flash of white light. The world around him seemed to shift, becoming darker and duller and less… _real._ Everything in his vision stuttered in a dichromatic shift, turning fuzzy and twisting. He had the distinct feeling of falling, and falling fast, but it was difficult to decipher. Was it real? His body seemed to think so, heart jumping up into his throat as the entirety of his guts dropped down into his knees in a sickening lurch.

As his sight glitched back into normalcy for just a moment, he didn’t see the ship or the pile of scrap or his hovering crates. It was a landscape of obsidian cliffs and fire. He could feel the heat on his skin and smell the noxious brimstone. The dark sky overhead was oppressive and heavy, ash and sparks swirling in sporadic and violent bursts from all around.

He wasn’t alone. He could see a man in robes some distance away and, at the same time, too close for comfort. A blue light emitted from his hand as he screamed over the roar of the volcanic river. It was hard to hear him. Jake was suddenly aware of his grief and pain but also entirely filled with it, like it was his own. Finally, he could understand the man.

_**You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!**_

Jake found himself stumbling back, watching the scene in complete confusion and horror. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself incapable of uttering a word. His eyes slowly drifted to his own hand, which was still gripping—whatever it was. He couldn’t seem to let go of it, feeling suddenly like it was the only thing tethering him here. He dared to take a step forward, almost absentminded as he observed the stranger. He hadn’t noticed, but tears had begun to gather in his eyes.

A new voice roared in his ears, vicious and wrathful. It shook him to his core, cracking him open just so that it could rip his heart out.

_**I HATE YOU—**_

Jake was falling again, the world around him distorted and warped as the obsidian cliffs congealed and morphed into a terrifying figured cloaked in black and rage. Everything moved quickly, flashes of vicious battle with so much on the line, precious life at stake. A black helmet with glossy insect like eyes and horrible hissing breath, red and blue and white and red and white and blue flashing and flashing and flashing—

_**If you strike me down—**_

A stab of sharp and burning and icy cold pain hit Jake suddenly before there was a euphoric relief, a feeling of indescribable freedom from the flesh. But it was quickly twisted away from him as he was thrown back into reality, familiar hands shaking him and familiar voices calling out.

“Jake! _Jake!”_

Jake let out a horrible scream, hands flying to grip his hair and temples. He scrambled away from whoever was touching him, tumbling off the old wooden lunch table at Savi’s. He yelped as he hit the ground, letting out a soft groan. “My _head—“_

An older woman watched him with concern, staring down at him with wide eyes. “Maybe it was the booze. Drinking finally caught up to him.”

Isis followed him down on to the floor, scrambling to him with an expression of fear and worry. “Jake,” she said again, cradling his head in her hands and moving it to her lap to cushion it. She turned to the older woman, frowning. “Don’t just stand there, Dotti, go get water! And tell Savi I’m taking Jake home!”

Dotti gave a nervous nod, rushing back into the warehouse to do as she was asked. Jake, meanwhile, was still gripping the piece of scrap. He stared up at Isis, blinking through tears to see her clearly. His face was covered in small scratch marks, left over from tumbling down the hill earlier. He winced in pain, his free hand moving back to his forehead. “What…what happened? Did— _did I pass out?”_

She looked relieved when he spoke, letting out a small sigh. “No,” she replied, swallowing. “Worse. You were having a fit, shouting nonsense and mumbling. And then you fell and starting seizing up. Dotti and I got you to the table and then you screamed and fell again.”

“I…shit. I—think I gotta. Go home. Not…feeling right.” He tucked the scrap into his bag, moving to sit up. “Uh—thanks for the help. Tell Savi to keep my pay for the day.”

“Slow down,” she said quickly, grabbing on to his arm to keep him still. “You’re not going back alone, it might happen again and someone needs to be there to make sure you’re okay.”

He gave a hesitant nod, rubbing his eyes—startled at how wet his face actually was. “Uh—thanks. Must be… _sick.”_

She stood up before Jake, letting him use her arms to steady himself. “Do you feel like you’re going to yartz?”

Jake shook his head, running a hand through his mess of auburn hair. “Uh—no. I feel…fine. Except the headache. I think I—had a dream, while I was out. Weird one.”

Her eyebrows furrowed and her head tilted. “A dream?” She started walking him to the door, the quest she had set Dotti on seemingly forgotten.

He nodded, rubbing his nose again as he began heading back down the road to his apartment. “I—Yeah. It was weird. I…probably just need to lie down. You’re—really helpful. Coulda just left me out in the sun.”

Later on in the day, when all 3 suns were comfortably hanging in the sky, Jake was sitting on his bed. He’d turned his music player on, blasting Huttese songs as loud as he was allowed by Oga. He stared at the strange… thing he’d taken, which had been sitting on the desk since he’d gotten home.

What _was_ it? He’d never seen anything like it. And—he’d called it a dream, but…he knew it was something else. He paced closer to it, hesitantly reaching to pick it up again. Relieved when he didn’t collapse, he sat down to look even closer.

He could tell the metal was once shiny and reflective, even when it’d seemingly been rusting and rotting away for quite a long time. There was a black detailing on the grip, which seemed surprisingly intact. Jake’s fingers brushed over a button, faded red and chipped from exposure. He noticed a chunk of it was seemingly missing, leaving wires of various colors exposed.

“Well—‘s not good. ‘S broken. Whatever… it is.” He dug into his drawer, pulling out one of his old tools. He began cutting and pulling the wires out, setting them to the side as he worked. Isis had left hours ago after securing a promise from Jake that he would remember to eat properly.

Beyond the music, his apartment was still and comfortable. His nest was just as he’d left it that morning. But as he worked, there seemed to be someone else with him. A feeling that he wasn’t alone creeping up his spine. The sensation was neither urgent or threatening but rather, like an old friend was simply relaxing on the other side of the room, watching him tinker.

Jake mostly ignored the strange feeling, turning to collect some spare wires he had. He spun his chair around, immediately freezing in place.

”What the—…Huh.”

There was no one there and everything looked just as he had left it. But the feeling didn’t shake. As warm afternoon air wafted through the room, it carried the smell of incense, soft and comforting and reminiscent of something sacred. Jake found himself relaxing, despite how _odd_ the entire feeling was. He slowly stood to gather the wires, doing his best to match the size of the broken ones. He grabbed a large bottle on his way back, unscrewing the top to take a swig of bright blue liquid.

A particularly strong breeze pushed its way through the gaps and cracks, like Batuu was heaving a soft sigh. It wasn’t unusual, the moisture and the triple suns guiding the air to twist through the trading post. The planetary breath made a soft sound as it entered his apartment, carrying with it what strangely sounded like Jake’s name, barely audible over the sound of his music. _Like a ghost._

He was slow to lift his head, hands not moving from the wires he’d picked up. His voice was quiet, full of apprehension.

“…Is this because of the dream I had?”

The sound continued, gentle but unintelligible as if someone was outside speaking in the street below. But it felt closer to Jake, in the same room, every confusing syllable sweeping across his ears and sneaking into his head to raise his skin to porgbumps.

The invisible eyes watching him hadn’t gone away. It became suddenly clear that they belonged to the voice.

Jake swallowed hard, staring down at the artifact in his hands. “What _are_ you? Scrap never…does _this._ What did it _do_ to me?”

The whispering began to wind down, slowing and cutting in and out on a fade. But one thing was made clear to him, he could hear it as much as feel it or see it in his mind.

_...The Force..._

His eyes widened, his hands slowly moving to set his tools down. “Damn…I need a drink.” Jake began chugging more of the bitter drink than he should, his shoulders relaxing as he felt it working through his system. “Maybe I just—hit my head, or…”

This time it was so solid and real it felt like someone squeezed his brain like a sponge, demanding his attention.

_Jake._

He gulped, feeling an uneasy sense of anticipation in his chest. “…Y-yeah?”

There was a tugging at the back of his brain, pulling him back to the hunk of scrap he’d been working on. It pulled at him with a sense of importance and priority, like it was calling out for his help.

_The saber._

Jake carefully, hesitantly moved his finger over the switch, nearly flinching as he anticipated— something. Another dream? Vision? Did he want that?

Something clicked in his memory, sudden recognition and understanding crossing his eyes.

_Dok’s mural. Those guys with the weird swords. That’s gotta be what this is!_

There were almost-memories playing in his head, binding the hilt to him with a sense of utility and sentimental importance. Whoever had owned this had kept it close and cared for it greatly. It seemed that it wanted to be cared for again.

Jake considered that for a long moment, weighing his options in his mind. If this thing…felt so important, he should try to restore it the best he could. _Right?_

As the first sunset had just finished, darkening the planet quite a bit, Jake paced through the hollowed Spire of Dok-Ondar’s Den of Antiquities. He had a basket of cleaning supplies under his arm, along with a few oddly shaped metal pieces and new wires. He was making his way to the counter, to trade with the old Ithorian, when—that old stone mural caught his eye.

 _That mural._ He’d never quite understood what it was, apart from that it was depicting some epic battle. Warriors in robes with laser swords—like the ones in his dream. Other strange creatures, with swords and shields, thin and long. Some parts of the stone had giant creatures, too, larger than anything Jake could think of. His memory flashed back to the two men he’d seen, with their own laser swords and weird robes. _Could they be in this somewhere?_

In front of his eyes, the mural came to life. It started moving, the creatures writhing and roiling under and over the masses of thin and spidery bodies that struggled fruitlessly against their human opponents. The men of stone didn’t gain and ground either, locked into an eternal power struggle.

The stone slabs looked as if they were breathing underneath the battle raging on their carved faces. The shop around him went quiet as he zoned in on the mural, a strange and muffled quality filling in the empty space around him.

The scrapper blinked slowly, rubbing his eye with his free hand— was this real? Or another dream? He stepped forward, eyes drawn to the men with their swords. Just like this one, he thought automatically. Out of the corner of his eye, the blurry shape of a person appeared next to him. They stared up at the mural as well, silent as the grave for what seemed like a lifetime.

“They’re Jedi.”

He nearly flinched at the sound, turning to glance at them. “I— _what?”_

It was Isis. She didn’t look at him when she spoke again, voice low and soft. “The men on this mural. They’re Jedi Knights.”

Jake gave a low sigh of relief, slowly glancing between her and the mural. “You’ve…heard of them? These guys?”

The word seemed familiar. _Jedi._ He remembered the cantina, and his preferred drink he ordered almost every night. _Jedi Mind Trick._ He’d never given much thought to where the name came from, until now.

“Mhm,” she answered, wrapping her long arms around her middle and rocking gently in place. After so long, Jake knew what that meant from her. It was a pleased action, something that meant she felt warm inside. “They’re my favorite stories.”

He found himself smiling wide, immediately relaxing. “Really? Never mentioned them before. I, uh…don’t know them. What’d they do?”

“They protected the galaxy with their lightsabers. Freed slaves, stopped invasions...They could even bend the Force to their will to help people.” She smiled softly, like someone does when they dream. “They were heroes.”

He nodded thoughtfully, shoving his free hand in his pocket. “It…sure sounds like it. And—“ He pointed to the mural, particularly at the lightsabers. “What happened to them?”

Her eyebrows narrowed and she sighed. “The Empire destroyed them. At least, that’s what the stories say.”

Jake swallowed, nodding again. He opened his mouth, starting to explain something. “I think I found one of—“ He made eye contact with Dok-Ondar—who’d suddenly gone silent. “…Hey, uh—Isis. Wanna head down to the cantina? Once I’m done buying this.”

She seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in, turning her head to look over at him. “The cantina? Sure. I’m starving!”

He paced over to the counter, setting his basket of spare parts down. Ondar said something, unintelligible in his low, grumbling language.

“What, seriously? I’d pay thirty for this, no problem. Why can’t you take credits for it?”

Dok responded, his beady eyes narrowing.

“‘Equal value’? This is just some junk—okay, fine. I know what you want.”

Jake huffed, digging into his vest and pulling out a tiny metal container. “Set off another trap, back in the ruins last night. Shot out some poison darts. Saw you liked them, so…” He slid it over the counter, watching Dok as he inspected it.

The Ithorian mumbled out an agreement, and Jake was on his way—practically rushing out of the shop. “Hey, uh—sorry about that. I need to talk to you about something. But—I can’t say it out in the open.”

Isis took long strides to keep up with him, pushing a stray braid back on top of her head. “It’s okay— what did Dok say that he wanted for those parts, anyway?”

He ran a hand through his hair, scratching lightly. “He always tries to get something of ‘equal value’, he hates taking credits. Always wants some weird trinket. Or—in that case, deadly darts. But—I have something special to talk to you about. Wouldn’t feel safe talking about it anywhere besides my booth.”

“Right,” she said quickly, nodding. “I’ve never traded with him before. Never found anything worth giving him for the things I want. No way he’d take scraps for something like that.”

Jake stepped into the cantina casually, heading to the booth at the back—always empty. His booth. He waved to the bartender, holding up two fingers. After his order was communicated, he stretched and wiggled until he was comfy. “Yeah, he’s picky. Only accepts the weird stuff I find in the tombs. But…I knew he’d want this. That weird thing I found today.”

“I must be looking in all the wrong places,” she said, looking like the was thinking intensely as she settled into the booth across from him. “I would love to have some of the things in that shop...”

He swallowed, nodding in agreement as he reached into his bag. “So—I think I know what this is now. Because of your Jedi story.” His hand emerged with the saber, carefully setting it down on the table. _“I think this was a Jedi sword.”_

Her eyes went wide and her hands went to her mouth in shock as she gawked at the hilt. She suddenly snatched it off the table and turned away from the open room, half hiding it in her coat and half admiring it with a loving gaze. _“Stars, Jake!”_

He smiled softly, eyes bright as he leaned closer. “I know. You can see it’s broken, see—that middle part is wide open. And the top part is frayed. But…” Jake gently grabbed her arm, full of concern. “I saw something. When I touched it.”

While he was talking, she stroked the metal with her tips of her fingers. Her eyes turned glassy like she might cry. But when he grabbed her, she looked up, the awe on her face mixing with concern. “What do you mean?”

,

Jake kept his eyes locked on the saber, deep and gray and full of confusion. “When I picked it up, I—well, I passed out. You saw that part. But… _I saw something else._ Two of these guys, two—Jedi. Fighting each other.”

“That—that’s what happened?” She glanced between him and the hilt, frowning. “You had a _vision?”_

He nodded urgently, rubbing a hand over his stubble. “I did. There—was smoke and lava everywhere. And…I felt pain. Felt this— strong pain. The guy was _heartbroken.”_

“Why was he so hurt?” she asked, laying her hand over his where it rested on her arm.

“I…couldn’t tell, from just the vision. But—he felt betrayed. Like—“ He pulled his drink closer, chugging Jedi Mind Trick for a few seconds. “It’s how I’d feel if Oga tried to kill me.”

Isis hugged the saber to her chest, sighing softly. “I knew they were real. _I knew it.”_

Jake stammered, mumbling a thank you as the bartender passed him a Bantha cookie. “Well, I—thought you could help me figure out what it was. Since you know about all this…Jedi stuff.”

She nodded, reluctantly passing the saber back to him when no one was looking. “I didn’t see anything but I’ll help you however I can. I’ll even quit Savi’s to spend more time on it.”

He shook his head immediately, shrugging. “Hey, _no way,_ it’s not that urgent. If you want, you can just…come to my place after our shift. Chat with me while I try to fix it. Might ask Savi if he’s got any spare parts, some might be compatible. Wonder if I could get it working. I…think that’s what it wants. _Crazy_ as that sounds.”

“It wants to be whole again.” She nodded again, like she was agreeing with him. “After so long alone, it must be lonely. Are you sure you don’t need to me take time off at least? I’ve been saving up.”

Jake waved a dismissive hand, leaning back as his drink was refilled. “Yeah, it’s really fine. It’s something I can work on in the off hours. But—this spot confused me.” He pointed to the center of the saber, the open hole. “Something must’ve gone inside here.”

She nodded again, emphatically. “Like the one you wear,” she whispered. “A kyber crystal.”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, remembering the old leather cord he wore around his neck. A blue crystal was woven into it, translucent and roughly cut. His hand drifted to hold it, turning it over. “What—like this? Savi gave it to me forever ago…” He shrugged, smirking again. “If I can fix the top part, I might actually be able to make it work. If I already have the power source.”

She reached across the table to touch the crystal, just running a single finger across one asymmetrical facet. “This is what makes the blade. And the color. At least, that’s what the stories say.”

He mumbled, slowly tucking the saber back into his bag. “Maybe Savi knew I’d use it some day. But—we can talk more about this tomorrow. We can skip drinks with the other Gatherers, and go right back to my place. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds good to me. Do you think that we’ll look suspicious?”

Jake shrugged, passing his credits over to an attendant. “Probably not. People skip drinks with the group all the time. Dotti once bailed for an entire week, ‘cause she got mad at me. Besides…’s not illegal. I’m just worried about Dok finding out. Because—he can, and will, have me killed if he decides he wants my stuff.”

“I won’t let that happen,” she said resolutely. She looked stern then, mouth drawn into a tight line. “I’ll kill him first if he even considers it. To hell with his list.”

That night, after all three suns had gone down and darkness had overtaken the planet, Jake found himself face-first on his bed. He stunk of _Jedi Mind Trick_ and sweat, as usual. His snores were half muffled by the pillow, and his hands were clutched into fists around it.

A man watched him from the other side of the room, standing quietly near the far wall. He was tall, cloaked in brown robes and surrounded by a soft white aura. From head to toe, he was translucent and nearly opalescent but almost as physical as anything else in the room.

Moving slowly forward, toward the unconscious Jake, he lowered his hood, an easy smile settled on his face, copper beard twitching upward as he ran a hand through his hair. His eyes smiled too, gentle and paternal and wise. Blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he brushed a ghostly hand across the dresser top, hand phasing through the clutter of odds and ends and tchotchke objects.

When he reached the edge of the bed, he crouched silently to examine Jake closer, curiously taking in his features. He wanted to know the one who stirred the memory of him up like motes of dust in a chink of sunlight.

The boy turned onto his back, snores awfully reminiscent of a frightened puffer pig. His blanket was now twisted around him, a collection of pillows—ranging from old and frayed to new and clean—were piled up around his head. Like everything else in the room, he’d spent years collecting them. His Kyber crystal necklace was on the bedside table beside him, carefully beaded and wrapped in worn leather. He stirred once again, something within him detecting the stranger’s presence.

Even then, he stayed asleep. _Heavily_ asleep.

Jake began to shift after a few more minutes, his hands clenching into fists as he mumbled. No—

_There it was again. The flashing, that deep hissing breath, the strange red eyes staring directly through his terror—_

_I HATE YOU!_

He gasped awake, sitting bolt upright—soaked in sweat. He had yet to notice the ghostly stranger, his stare seeming to be…somewhere else entirely.

The stranger gingerly reached out to Jake, afraid to startle him further. _”It’s alright, Jake,”_ he said in a low and soothing voice. _“You’re safe here.”_

Jake flinched again, eyes wide and alert as he stared the apparition down. “…I’m—still dreaming.”

The stranger smiled, barely suppressing a chuckle. _“I’m afraid not, my friend. You are very much awake.”_

He rubbed his eyes with his fists, gasping softly. “You’re…the guy from the dream!”

 _“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,”_ he said in official greeting. _“And you’re the one who found my lightsaber.”_

The boy hesitantly moved to sit up further, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. “…Uh. ‘M Jake. Jake Buir. So…Isis was right? About—Jedi?” The word felt foreign in his mouth, odd and vague.

Obi-Wan seemed amused as he stood to his full height again. _“Yes. Your friend is quite clever.”_

He kept his eyes trained on the Jedi’s face, still struggling to believe what he was seeing. “Uh—y-yeah. She is. Really knew her stuff. I, uh—“ He felt his face heat up. “I…don’t really know much.”

leaned his hip against the dresser and crossed his arms in a matter-of-face sort of way. _“That’s why I’m here,”_ he said, nodding. _“To teach you. We all start somewhere.”_

Jake raised an eyebrow, moving to reach for the saber. “You’re here—to teach me? Why? What— _what are you?”_ He wasn’t accusatory or aggressive, simply… _fiercely_ curious.

He gestured at himself, a flourish down his front. _“I’m a Jedi,”_ he replied, looking a little smug. _“And you—“_ he pointed to Jake. _“—are quite wonderfully sensitive to the Force. You found my saber by more than mere chance, Jake. It called to you.”_

Jake felt his face heat up, blush creeping over his nose and cheeks. “Uh…yeah. I saw some freaky stuff, y’know—when I touched it. ‘S—where I saw you.” He pointed back at Obi-Wan, his tone relaxed and still thick with sleep.

_“Yes...I hope that someday it shows you something much more pleasant.”_

He swallowed, turning the weapon over in his hands. “Is—is that normal? For—people like us? Touching things and…seeing stuff?”

_“No. Yours is a unique gift, even among the Jedi. It’s very rare and treasured.”_

Jake’s eyes grew wide, his mouth turning up in a smile. “Wow. And—you’re a ghost?”

It occurred to him, after a few moments, that that was probably an offensive question to ask somebody he’d just met.

Obi-Wan chuckled behind his hand, his fingers smoothing over his mustache and goatee. _“Yes, you could say that. I am...a physical manifestation of the force and appear as I once was and think as I once did.”_

He mumbled out another wow, running a hand through his hair. “I—I guess I don’t know what to ask you. But, uh—“ He held the saber up, unknowingly aiming the emitter towards himself. “Why did it choose me? For _what?”_

 _“I didn’t,”_ he said simply. _“You were called and you answered. You are special in this world, Jake.”_

Jake swallowed at that, leaning back against his pillows. “And…what’s that mean? Can I—do magic stuff, like in Isis’s stories?” He perked up a little, childlike wonder sparkling in his eyes.

 _“Yes. But it’s not quite magic. It is the Force. And you, Jake, will wield it.”_ He paused for a moment, looming thoughtful. _“You’ll wield it to protect those who can’t protect themselves. This is our way, Jake. Your first lesson is to listen to the Force. Let it guide you.”_

His pale eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what the apparition meant. “Like—r-right now?”

_“Not necessarily, no. But when it calls to you. When it gives you a sign or a feeling. You’ll know.”_

He leaned back again, settling back into a comfortable position. “So…you’ll be—keeping an eye on me?”

 _“I will. There isn’t much I can do to intervene but I will do what I can when I am able.”_ He spoke with his hands, giving his words even the smallest of gestures.

Jake considered this for a moment, already finding himself falling back to sleep. “Uh…thanks. I can’t wait.”

_“Sleep well, Padawan. You’ll need your strength.”_


End file.
